HALO DOOMSDAY
by WunderWaffle
Summary: The Covenant has returned, and Lylat is under their control. An ODST and his human teammates crash-land on Corneria, and Star Fox must fight a war to take back Lylat. Can the two forces stop the alien cult, or are both races doomed to extinction?
1. Chapter 1: The Fall of Athens VIII

**Author's Notes: Hey, Guys and Gals. This is my first fan fiction that I've ever put on the internet, so please cut me some slack for being a little sloppy. I'll try my best to make this readable and I accept constructive criticism and tips on how to improve the story. If you don't already know, this is a crossover between Halo and Star Fox, and I think this is probably my best attempt at creating a fan fiction. Please read and review, and no flames! I hope you enjoy it!**

**Rated T for Language and Violence. Rating May Change.**

**Also, at the beginning of every chapter, I'm going to put a quote from Sergeant Johnson as an ode to my favorite character in all of video games.**

**Peace.**

**~WunderWaffle**

**Disclaimer: Halo © by Microsoft and Star Fox © by Nintendo. All other ideas, characters, and events that are not present in the official canon of either franchise are of my own imagination.**

Edits Made:

1. Tried to change the Johnson Quote, and it didn't work, so I left it as is.

2. I forgot to change the thinking dialogue to italics, so I did that to make it easier to read.

3. I also change the title of the chapters, so I could fit more words into the title.

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HALO DOOMSDAY

CHAPTER ONE

THE FALL OF ATHENS VIII

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"_Men, keep your eyes downrange, fingers on the triggers, and we all come home in o__ne piece. Am I right, Marines?" _~ Avery Junior Johnson, Halo: Combat Evolved Easy Speech

**0900 Hours, August 17, 2565 (UNSC Military Calendar) / 14 Gemini System, Planet Athens VIII, UNSC Foxtrot L7 Outpost**

Master Gunnery Sergeant Anthony Reeves, a middle aged man of about 31 Earth years of age, sprinted down the hallways of the United Nations Space Command (UNSC) military outpost on the planet Athens VIII. With a BR55 Battle Rifle in his hands, an MA5K Carbine on his back, and an M6G Magnum attached to his right leg, he continued his journey to the outskirts of the base in full Orbital Drop Shock Trooper (ODST) attire, panting as he went.

He stopped in front of a blast door at the end of a long corridor. After entering his ID Code and Service Number onto the small keypad attached to the wall adjacent to the door, it slid apart to reveal a large room. Barricades were lined in front of the ten foot tall gateway to the outside of the facility. Marines sought cover behind any solid object they could find, checking their weapons and gear to make sure that they were still in working condition. Yet, in the crowd of combat hardened marines, what stood out in Reeves' mind was the fact that there was a man in bulky armor standing at the far end of the lobby, wielding a large flamethrower; an NA4 Flamethrower to be precise. The Sergeant recognized the man as being a Hellbringer; the military's finest when it comes to flamethrower. If there was ever a need to smother out an enemy bunker, then those men would be the best for the job.

_Or at least the second best_, thought Anthony. _A Spartan could clean out an enemy facility in mere minutes and a bunker in only seconds. Man, it sucks that Master Chief's dead. We could really use him right about now…_

The ODST positioned himself against a steel barricade, almost two yards from the Hellbringer. He was about to check his rifle for the one hundredth time today, when a marine yelled, "They're breaking though the door!" Anthony peered over the barricade to see that there were, in fact, flames of plasma tearing a small hole though the gate. The flames danced across the reinforced titanium plating and onto the floor of the lobby. The tear moved slowly across the door, forming a hole big enough for a human to walk through without knocking his head against the top. Once the process was complete, the fires stopped and an utter silence fell upon the room.

The hole was blasted open and a swarm of Apes, a new race of the alien race that was now fighting the UNSC, poured into the room. They fired their plasma weapons at the marines, but the humans retaliated with the volley of bullets from their ballistic weapons. The sarge joined in on the defense, taking down two of the aliens with his Battle Rifle.

A blinding light filled the corner of his eye as a pillar of flames ejected from the flamethrower of the armored man, engulfing a dozen of the intruders in mere seconds. They attempted to put out the flames, but the Apes eventually fell to the floor, charred and dead.

Once every enemy was dead, Reeves heard a man yell, "Move up," and the marines poured out through the gate. He followed into the cold, icy outside of the UNSC outpost. A chill went down the sergeant's spine, surprising him that he could still feel the temperature through his ODST armor.

Anthony fought his way through the crowd of marines and came up beside the Hellbringer. "What's your name?" asked the Sarge.

"Corporal Simion," answered the flamethrower marine as he lugged his NA4 through the snow.

"Okay. I'm Master Gunnery Sergeant Reeves. How long have you been here? I mean, on Athens VIII."

"Four months. They posted me here when the Apes first landed their small force up north."

The Hellbringer was right. After a space battle that the UNSC forces strangely won, even if the Apes had technology far more advanced than the humans, they landed a small force north of the Foxtrot L7 Base. Their spacecraft were built for speed instead of firepower, and the force guarding the planet was composed of cruisers, destroyers, and frigates, with enough firepower to take out a Covenant capital ship. So, if there was any reason for the UNSC, it would be the sheer size of the human fleet.

The Apes were about the same size as an average human, and their overall body structure was almost identical to that of a human. The only major differences were their facial composition, the presence of fur, and a tail. Reeves thought that it was possible for an Ape to take on a human in a fist fight, although he didn't want to be the first one to figure it out.

The Apes' weaponry is said to be advanced, because of the fact that they used plasma instead of bullets, but they weren't nearly as powerful as Covenant weaponry. While they were still a major threat, the marines had pushed their assaults back every time with only a few close calls. Their tactics weren't terrible, but Reeves knew that they weren't their best.

Their reasons for fighting humanity were completely unknown, unlike most of their battle tactics. They could be part of the Covenant, an alien religious cult that had nearly annihilated humanity, but that was unlikely. The Human-Covenant War ended in 2552, and it a full thirteen years later. The chance of them being part, or even what's left of the Covenant was strictly a theory. They were not even close to being as competent as the Covenant was, on both land and in space. Reeves was extremely thankful for this.

But something didn't seem right. The UNSC has never won this easily.

Unless the Apes were losing on purpose.

Anthony pushed the thought aside as he and the Hellbringer found themselves at the outer fortress. After climbing up an icy ladder, the group was in a large spire the overlooked the frozen landscape of Athens VIII. The sergeant could plainly see that the Apes' forces had long since retreated.

"That was too easy," said a marine. "I only used up three clips."

"Shit, you beat me," said another. "I wasted four."

The commanding officer (CO) of the group turned on a communicator device that he must have had with him. "This is Lieutenant Smith. We have the outer wall secure. The Apes have once again failed to do any real damage, except for the big hole in door to the barracks. Other than that, everything's fine at the northern gate."

Reeves could hear the response loud and clear. "Roger that, lieutenant. Keep us posted."

The lieutenant deactivated the communicator and turned to his squadron. "Alright men, I want everyone back to their stations on the double. These Ape bastards aren't coming back today, 'cuz they've gotten their asses handed to 'em for the tenth time in four months. So, I think I can make myself clear that these sorry excuses for enemies are never gonna be half as powerful as the Covenant."

"Hoorah!" yelled the marines in unison.

"Alright! Now double time it back to--"

The lieutenant was cut off by a flash of bright, green light and an explosion that made Anthony fall off the spire. He fell a full twenty feet, enough to shatter a man's bones, but the snow beneath him was almost five feet deep. It had been place there by men with shovels, so it was very soft, and it cushioned the sergeant's fall.

Blood rushed to his head, causing temporary blindness. He heard yet another explosion, but this one was much closer. A wave of heat washed over Reeves.

The ground began to tremble in a particular pattern, like the steady beat of a drum.

Ka-Thunk! Ka-Thunk! Ka-Thunk!

The ODST expected the worst when his vision slowly returned to him. Sure enough, there it was: the towering behemoth of a tank known as a Scarab loomed over him.

The man starred at the Covenant walker in shock. _What the hell is a Scarab doing here_, he thought. _I thought the Covenant was dead. The Covenant _is_ dead! Master Chief killed them all, didn't he? Shit, how the hell did the Apes get their hands on a Scarab?_

"Get up!"

Anthony felt a hand grab at his armor and pull him through the snow. At the same time, Brutes began to spill out of the Scarab. _Holy fuck! We're screwed now!_ He was pulled around the corner of a barracks before the Covenant soldiers saw him.

"You okay, sarge?"

Anthony looked up to see Corporal Simion staring down at him. He still had the NA4 Flamethrower slung over his back, but he was carrying a battle rifle. Anthony's battle rifle.

Simion offered his hand to Anthony, and the ODST grasped it firmly. The man pulled him up onto his feet with alarming speed. With Anthony upright, the two humans stared into each other's visors in silence.

"Thanks." Anthony was the first to break the silence.

"Don't mention it," replied the corporal. His voice sounded very strong and low, like that of an African man of about his age. Other than that, he could have been using one of the voice-changers that the UNSC had been giving out to special operations marines lately.

Anthony took another look around the corner at the Scarab. Brutes were slowly searching the area around the walker, while a group of Grunts guarded its underside. It was disturbing the he was coming nearly face to face with the race that had almost pushed humanity to extinction roughly twelve years ago.

_And the worst thing about it_, thought the Sergeant Major, _is that Master Chief isn't here to save us._

Anthony turned back to the Hellbringer. "We need to get to the landing pads."

"… So we can get a Pelican or a Longsword and fly to the Midway." Simion had finished Reeve's sentence.

"Exactly."

"But how are we gonna get there? It's like ten kilos to the east."

"Simple. I know how to drive a Warthog."

The corporal let out a bellowing laugh. "Great, sir. Shall we?"

"Don't call me sir," Anthony chuckled. "My name is Anthony."

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A pack of Brutes stopped in front of a large gateway. The chieftain paused, inhaling the freezing air though his nostrils. The pungent smell of humans was fresh, indicating that were nearby.

"Find the humans," the chieftain ordered. "Wipe them out of existence."

The other Brutes parted ways, going off in other directions, searching separate parts of the human outpost. The chieftain went through the gateway that led down a long ramp into darkness.

After what felt like only minutes, the Brute saw two small lights become visible. They quickly became larger and the humming of engines became clear. The chieftain began to ready his gravity hammer, but it was too late. The human Warthog slammed into him and crushed his head under one of the tires.

The human driver felt no regret upon doing this, but he did look at his passenger in astonishment.

"What the hell? That was a Brute Chieftain!" said the driver, Master Gunnery Sergeant Anthony Reeves. "I thought the Covenant was dead."

"Yeah, man. Me too," exclaimed the passenger, Corporal Keith Simion. "It looks like we were wrong."

The Troop Transport Warthog drove through the gate and into the snow covered ground on the outer doors section of the UNSC outpost. It avoided the detection of the base without a problem.

"Okay, so far, so good," said the ODST emotionlessly. "We're ten kilos west of our destination. We'll hopefully get there without a problem."

"You sure you're not being too optimistic," asked Simion.

"I hope not," he answered grimly.

The first half of the journey went by fairly smoothly. Every once and a while, the two men would catch a glimpse of something through the high amounts of snow blowing around, but it would soon disappear. This eventually made the driver and passenger very uneasy; they never let their guard down.

But that didn't stop the Covenant from trying anyway.

"Anthony, we've got two Ghosts at three o'clock," shouted Keith.

"Shit! Use the rocket launcher I gave you," came the response.

The Hellbringer grabbed the M19 SSM and mounted it on his shoulder. He lined up the crosshairs with one of the approaching vehicles and fired. The missile sped toward the lead Ghost. Both of the men crossed their fingers as the rocket neared its target…

…And with a large bang, the Ghost was incinerated by the M19 SSM Missile.

_One down, one to go_, thought Reeves. _Now is not the time for celebrating._

Out of the corner of his eye, he was the second barrel of the launcher slide into place. He checked the navigation unit on the Hog's dashboard. It read four kilometers to destination. We've _wasted a kilo just by messing with the Ghosts. I guess we _are_ making good time._

"I got the other one," yelled Keith. "It was my last shot, too."

"Great job! Let's see if we can get to the hangar before--"

Plasma bolts splattered the side of the Hog, melting the armor like wax. Anthony was about to ask, but Simion gave him the answer he really didn't want to hear:

"Banshees!"

"Aw, great! This is fucken' great!" Reeves made a sharp turn over a snow drift.

"They're behind us!" Keith barked.

"I KNOW THAT!!" Anthony frantically slammed on the gas and the Hog gunned over the ice and snow. Blue plasma splashed against the rear of the vehicle, proving that the Banshees were still in pursuit.

The snow in front of Reeves exploded in a cloud of green, sending a jolt down his spine. _Great! Banshee bombs!_

In the rear view mirror, he noticed many more green balls of superheated plasma trailing off course, but one seemed to be heading on a direct course with the Warthog.

"Hold on," he screamed.

The bomb collided with the Warthog, but, instead of destroying it, it sent the vehicle spiraling into the air. The Helljumper held on to the steering wheel for dear life; refusing to let himself be thrown out.

The warthog continued to flip and spiral for what seemed like an eternity. In reality, it was less then a half of a minute. In the end, Reeves felt the Hog hit the snow covered ground, with its wheels firmly planet on the ice.

"Simion," the ODST coughed. "You still here?"

"Yeah," he answered. "We were _extremely_ lucky back there."

"I know." Reeves checked the onboard navigation system. "Under a kilometer to go."

With that, he gunned the Warthog through the icy dunes, towards the final destination.

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The security entrance folded open, and Reeves silently walked in. He scanned the hallway for enemy contacts. When he found none, he pointed two fingers down the hall, signaling Simion to move up.

After that, the two continued down the passage, until the came upon door labeled "Hagar Bay L7A."

"Bingo," Anthony heard Keith mutter under his breath.

Reeves reached for the controls, but hesitated. It was as if he had become paralyzed at the thought of what could be on the other side: a legion of Grunts, or maybe a pack of Brutes. At this point, he wouldn't be surprised if they crammed a freaking Scarab into the hangar.

"Well? Are you gonna open it?" the corporal questioned.

Reeves didn't answer.

"Okay then. If you're not gonna open it, then I will." Keith reached for the control panel, and before Anthony could stop him, the door was already folding apart. What was on the other side surprised them both.

Nothing.

"What the hell?" Anthony exclaimed.

"Looks like everyone left," said Keith.

Reeves scanned the room over and over again. Why is no one here? Where could everyone have gone? He looked at the signs on the walls above the bay doors. They read "Hangar Bays L7A." He then looked at the wall directly in front of him: "Access to Hangar Bays L7B – L7D."

He pointed two fingers toward the access door. "Move."

Anthony and Keith darted to the access way, and the sounds of battle became clear. Anthony didn't hesitate to open the door because whoever was on the other side needed their help.

Or not.

A Spartan, clad in Mark VI EVA Armor, was spraying a mass of Grunts with his M7/Caseless Submachine Guns. With ease, he brought down everyone without Anthony having to intervene.

_Yes! We get a Spartan! An honest to god Spartan!_ Reeves managed a crooked smile under his visor. _We're not so screwed after all._

The Helljumper staggered over the Grunt bodies. "Who are you, Spartan?"

"Chief Petty Officer Spartan-242," he answered in a monotone voice.

"Are there any vehicles left?" Anthony demanded.

"There's a Longsword in Hangar L7C."

"Good. Take us there."

The Spartan, the ODST, and the Hellbringer rushed down the hangar bay and through the access corridor. Anthony's heart sank upon entering the third hangar. Two pairs of Hunters and who knows how many Brutes roared and fired shots at the Longsword. If they were not stopped soon, there wouldn't be much left of the fighter to escape on.

"Fire in the hole!"

Anthony saw a single marine, wielding a rocket launcher, kneeling in the front access of the Longsword. He fired off two shots, one hitting the ground between the two Hunters, killing them both, and the other into a Brute pack, sending them reeling in all directions.

"Spartan, you get the Hunters," Reeves ordered. "Corporal, you've got the Brutes."

Both nodded and began their attacks. Reeves darted through the carnage toward the Longsword. He ran up the ramp, made a sharp turn, and entered the cockpit. There was a woman at the controls. "Get this bird's engines up and running," he ordered.

"Aye aye, sir," she said.

Reeves ran back out of the Longsword. "Corporal! Spartan! We're leaving!" he yelled.

Corporal Simion and the Spartan ran up the access ramp just as more Covenant soldiers poured into the hangar. Reeves pounded the door controls. Slowly but surely, the ramp began to close. But the marine with the rocket launcher managed to get in a few more shots before it was completely shut.

Reeves ran back to the cockpit once again. He took a seat in the copilot's chair. "Punch it."

Without another word said, the Longsword heaved itself off the ground, performed a 180 degree spin, and rocketed out of the hangar. G-forces jabbed at the master gunnery sergeant's stomach as the fighter flew higher toward the UNSC Midway, and closer towards escape.

"Sir, we've officially left Athens VIII's atmosphere," reported the pilot.

"Good," Reeves replied. "Set a course for the Midway, and make it quick."

The Longsword maneuvered toward what seemed to be empty space, yet the destination soon became clear. A UNSC Prowler Class Stealth Ship floated near motionlessly in the void of deep space. It was an irregularity in the vast expanse of twinkling specks of light. Yet there it stood, bold and unrelenting in the void of stars.

"Open a com channel with the captain," the sergeant major ordered.

The pilot tapped a few buttons on the control panel. "No response, sir."

"What do you mean no response?" he began to ask.

"Anthony, they're ejecting life pods. Look!"

Reeves looked to where Simion was pointing. To his horror, masses of lifeboats began to eject into space from the Midway.

"What the hell," he began.

A second sun appeared off the side of the Longsword. It rippled through space toward the Prowler. On impact, the Midway hell melted, and the ship disintegrated into blobs of molten steel.

"Oh my god…" was all that Reeves could manage to say.

"Covenant cruisers at ten o'clock!" said the pilot anxiously.

"Evasive maneuvers!" he ordered.

The Longsword veered 90 degrees to the left, into what was only one Covenant cruiser, but five of them.

"Full throttle to the engines," he barked calmly, despite the current situation. "Fly straight through them."

"But, sir…" the pilot began.

"Just do it!" he shouted.

"This is suicide," Reeves heard the demolition marine mutter under his breath. He decided not to comment on it, because even he didn't quite know if this decision was a smart one.

The master gunnery sergeant noticed a small, green speck appear to the back of the cluster of ship. It expanded at an alarming rate, until it resembled a green puddle in the vastness of the cosmos.

"Sir, did you see that," asked the pilot.

"Yes," he said. He thought it over a minute, and then made his decision. "Set a course for whatever the hell that is. We're gonna fly through it."

"Oh, no way!" objected the marine. "Longswords are built to fly through Slipspace."

"Can it, marine!" ordered the sergeant unenthusiastically. "If you don't want to go through it, then you can walk back to Athens VIII! Besides, that thing isn't a Slipspace rupture." He paused. "It's something else." He turned to the pilot. "Can you get us there?"

"Yes, sir," she said blankly.

The Longsword blew past the first cruiser, without it noticing. The second began to charge up its plasma cannons, but the Longsword flew past it before it could finish. The third and fourth managed to fire off, but each was evaded by the fighter.

"Sir," the pilot said. "The fifth cruiser is escaping through the rupture."

"Follow it," Reeves ordered.

The Longsword approached the cruiser, and it was soon below it. The front of the soon became "submerged" in the anomaly.

With only seconds left, Anthony Reeves crossed his fingers and hoped for the best.

The Longsword entered the puddle in space and disappeared.


	2. Chapter 2: Approaching Storm

**Author's Notes: Hey. Chapter Two is here. Not as long as the first, but the first was twenty pages on notebook paper, and that's the longest chapter I've ever written, with the second longest somewhere around seven pages. I either got carried away or my chapters are very short.**

**Also, I'd like to point out that the way I set up this fan fiction's storyline would make it problematic to put in the 30's or 40's. I won't spoil the later parts of the story, but I can tell you that there would be too many similarities with events that happened then, and the circumstances of these situations would make referencing them unlikely until the war ended. So for the sake of making sense, and I don't mean to be mean in any way, but 2565 seems like the likeliest of places for this story to take place. You'll figure it out eventually.**

**Also, out of randomness, I think that the link title of my story looks weird in all caps. Just a thought. **

**Peace.**

**~WunderWaffle**

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HALO DOOMSDAY

CHAPTER TWO

APPROACHING STORM

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"_Once again, it is our job to finish what the flyboys started. We are leaving this ship's platoon, and engaging the Covenant on solid ground. When we meet the enemy, you will rip their skulls from their spines, and toss 'em away, laughin'! Am I right, Marines?" _~Avery Junior Johnson, Halo Combat Evolved Normal Speech

**02:34 Units, 14.2.4698****th**** Cycle (Cornerian Basic Calendar) / Covenant **_**First Age of Retribution**_** / Lylat System, Corneria, Corneria City, the Citadel**

The rain pounded profusely on the cockpit's reinforced glass. As it descended through the clouds, the Arwing II closed in on the destination. The tower soon came into view, and the pilot steered the fighter to one of the many circular platforms protruding from its sides. It was a new form of architecture in the Lylat System; it had a distinct violet sheen to it, instead of the traditional silver shine. It had been brought there by the races that now had a militaristic control of the system: the Covenant.

The space fighter landed on the alien landing, and the pilot, the one and only Fox McCloud, jumped out onto its wet, shimmering surface. From here he could see all of Corneria City, which had been drenched in rain since the beginning of the current quarter cycle. It had been raining endlessly, like it did every part of an ordinary cycle. Although it was a dreary sight to behold, it had an alarming sense of and approaching storm.

A big one.

Fox walked toward a big, elegantly designed door, guarded by two small and scrawny Unggoy, one of the many races of the Covenant. They bickered with each other in their alien language, which sounded like random shrieks and chirps, completely unknown to McCloud. Upon sighting him, they scuttled to a holographic control panel and opened the door. They didn't bother to salute or any other gestures of rank or superiority, simply because they didn't care. None of the races of the Covenant truly trusted the Cornerians, and the Cornerians didn't trust the Covenant either. Fox guessed it was mutual.

He passed through hallways of elegantly designed arches, beautiful glass designs, and glistening holographic images. He had admired the Covenant's architectural constructions since the day he had stepped aboard the flagship on the day of first contact, even though he always felt uneasy when standing when standing with or even in the same room with them. It was hard to imagine that the grotesque beast that made up the Covenant to build such wondrous buildings Fox had once only dreamed about.

Fox continued on through a maze of corridors and passageways, looking for any telltale signs of his destination. He stumbled across a squadron of Titans, wearing their shining purple armor and a yellowish orange that covered their faces. They were once normal Cornerian soldiers, but they willingly became part of a top secret project that turned them into super soldiers. The Covenant then incorporated them into their armies, and they quickly became the icon of Covenant control over Lylat. They no longer were the men and women that they once were, with no connections to their families or friends; and were now only programmed to kill. The Covenant called them "demon killers" for reasons beyond Fox, but it only fed the fire that was their reputation. It saddened McCloud, but he knew that there was nothing he or anyone could do about it.

He walked through a large archway, lit by glowing rings of light. Fox could tell he was getting close. He saw many Jiralhanae in armor with shades of red and gold. He hiked up many flights of stairs, all leading to yet another massive archway, which folded apart on his approach. There he found himself in a large, circular room with a massive table in the center. A holographic image of a ring, or a Halo in Covenant terms, spinning slowly above the only familiar face he had seen since he had landed on the Citadel: General Peppy Hare. Fox then took a seat next to him.

"I don't like this," said the general, eyeing the wall across the table. "The Covenant have never had meeting on such short notice."

"Don't worry," Fox said, trying to be reassuring. "It won't be that bad. I have that feeling that everything'll be fine." Fox actually didn't know what was going to happen, but admitting that would only make things worse.

"I don't need gut feelings, Fox," said the hare. "I need answers."

The door from which Fox had entered opened again, and three Jarilhanae stepped into the vast room. One of them wore crimson and gold armor with an elegant head dress, while the other had gleaming cobalt armor. The two minors took position on either side of the table, while the leader, presumably a chieftain, stood on the end farthest from Fox and Peppy. He pressed a holographic button on his face guard and then addressed his two "guests."

"The Holy One has called for this meeting, and it is by his will that I call you here," the Jiralhanae said in perfect Cornerian. Fox guessed that the button had activated a Covenant translator. "Are you the ones thy call General Pepper and Fox McCloud?"

"Yes," said Pepper. "Why have you called us here?"

"Patience!" said the chieftain. "You are not in the position to make demands of the Covenant. When the information is given to us, we will give it to you. Until then, hold your tongue, or we will _forcefully_ silence you."

Fox had always known that the Jiralhanae were always intimidating, but they tried hard to impose their superiority over other races, whether they were Covenant or Lylatian. They were very tribal and had a social system that contradicted almost all of the Cornerian standards of living, making them extremely hard to negotiate or reason with. Yet, either way, the hairy behemoths were very high on the Covenant hierarchy, and to negotiate with the leaders meant they had to consult with the Jiralhanae.

One of the minors muttered something to the chieftain in alien tongue, and the chieftain responded with a boastful grunt. "The _Peaceful Requisition _has returned form its conquest to a _human_ world." He spat the word, as if he were disgusted to even say it. "They had no protection against us, and the world will be ours within the day."

"Is their anything we can do to help?" asked the general.

"Your race has done enough to help,' said the Jiralhanae. "We shall handle the rest, as commanded by the hierarch."

Fox raise his hand hesitantly to gain the attention of the chieftain. He turned to him with a low snarl, and Fox guessed that it was either now or never. "What exactly do you want with the planet anyway," he asked.

The chieftain stared at him, its eyes piercing through Fox's very soul. "The matters that we have on this planet are of the most holy reasons, and we cannot tell you for the safety of our plans to proceed along the path of the Great Journey."

A moment of silence ensued. The chieftain put a command into the holographic panels on the table, and a three-dimensional image appeared above the center. What looked like and alien creature, standing on two legs and wielding a strange kinetic projectile weapon. It wore green armor, encasing everything but its face. Its face was almost completely hairless, except for trace amounts around its mouth and in two lines above the eyes. Its nose was seemingly bent downward, and its face was almost completely flat, with no muzzle at all. The expression on his face was not fearful because of the Jiralhanae that was about to cave its face in, but of anger and bravery. In the hand that didn't hold its projectile weapon, Fox saw what appeared to be a circular device, a grenade of sorts. It was much shorter than the Covenant soldier that was about to deliver the final blow, but Fox could feel that the alien was not about to die without a fight. Fox, at almost an instant, knew what the strange alien was: a human.

In many ways, the image opposed almost everything the Covenant had said about them. They had called humans demonic and sickening, but Fox could only see a being, heroically willing to die for the survival of its species. They had called humans weak and unable to stand against the Covenant, but Fox could see that while the human was about to die, it was going to take the pack of Jiralhanae that surrounded him with him to its grave. They had called the humans alien and impossible to relate with, but Fox could see a soldier, just like any Cornerian soldier; ready to defend his comrades, his government, and his people, just like what any Cornerian soldier should do. The Lylatian population had been taught to hate humans with everything they had, and most of them were ready to wage war on a race of being not unlike themselves. Fox realized that what the Covenant was doing was wrong, damn wrong, but if he were to do anything about it, he would be publicly executed, which wouldn't help anything. Fox had been a major force in winning the Lylat Wars, had stopped the evil scientist and leader of the Venomian Rebellion _twice_, and had stopped the Aparoid invasion, but this was a different kind of war. Not against invaders with spaceships, not against aliens parasites, not against an evil scientist, but against ideas and people who believed in those ideas.

Unfortunately, those people were the Cornerians of Lylat.

"Why show us this?" General Peppy asked.

"In the future, it is no doubt that we will fight them," Said the chieftain. "This image is purposed to let you know what our enemy is."

A moment of silence followed.

Eventually, one of the lower Jiralhanae told something to the chieftain, and with a low-tone grunt, the chieftain turned to the two Cornerians. "The hierarch has ordered that this meeting must end," he said. "He has ordered that all forces must help in the second part of the plan, and I must join my brethren. By the Holy Prophet, this meeting is adjourned."

The chieftain continued to turn off the translator on his face guard, and he and his lieutenants turned and left through the large archway. When the door folded closed, Fox turned to Peppy. "They're not really going to kill every human in the galaxy, are they?"

Peppy looked at Fox, his eyes giving a grave look that chilled Fox through the soul. "They really are, Fox. They really are."

Fox lowered his head, feeling both anger and sadness. "I have to do something," Fox said. "What they're doing is genocide. For god's sake, they're worse than Venom."

"I understand how you feel," said Peppy, putting a hand on Fox's shoulder. "It's in your blood to be a hero, but this isn't like the Lylat Wars or the Aparoid invasion. This is different, Fox. They have the support of almost everyone in Lylat, even most of the military. They want humanity dead, and I don't think there is anything you or I can do about it without dying." Peppy looked solemnly at Fox. "You're a hero, Fox, not a martyr."

"I'll find a way," Fox said. "If I have to go to humanity's homeworld, then I will. I _will_ find a way, Peppy. I have to."

Peppy looked down, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop him from his self-assigned duty. He reached his hand into his uniform's pocket, and pulled out a small, circular device, and handed it to Fox.

"What is this," asked Fox.

"A translator. For the human language," Peppy answered. "I can't tell you where I got this, but it's the only one in existence, so don't lose it. There'll be no way to communicate with humans if you loose that."

"I won't let the Covenant get their hands on this, I promise," said Fox.

"Also, there's an underground rebel group operating in the industrial district of Corneria City. If you ever need their help, their location is on this device. They'll help you with weapons and additional information."

Fox simply nodded.

"But, in the unlikely event that you get caught, you didn't get any this from me. Do you understand me, Fox?"

"Yes, I do," Fox replied.

"Alright, good luck, Fox," General Peppy Hare said, standing up. As he turned to leave, Fox heard mutter, "You're _really _gonna need it." He then walked though the archway, and disappeared.

Fox sat in the room for just a little bit longer, taking in what he had just done. He was about to fight a covert war to save a race that he never even met before. But if he wanted to stop the Covenant from killing an innocent race that had once fought them for survival many cycles ago, he'd have turn his back on his own race in order to stop the mass genocide from ever happening. I wasn't as simple as fighting an enemy in a star fighter anymore, but a war against a belief that he knew was wrong.

Fox got up from the alien chair, and walked toward the doorway. With a sigh, he exited the meeting room, and began to walk back to his star fighter. He knew that nothing could prepare him for what he and his team mates were about to do, and deep down, he doubted that it could even be done.

He only hoped that he wouldn't end up being a martyr instead of hero.


End file.
